Open Mics & Open Hearts
by shadowswan
Summary: Ally had never pictured herself working in a jazz bar after university. Austin had never pictured himself singing at an open mic night at a jazz bar during a world tour. And what neither of them had pictured was the two of them finding themselves on stage together at the same jazz bar, having not spoken for four years. But here they were. Ausllyish futurefic, AUish. Lots of ish.
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_Disclaimer: I don't own Austin & Ally, characters, songs etc., and for the first time ever, I'm not sad about that, because the show is perfect as it is._

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_A/N: So, hi! Looks like I'm joining this fandom. This was the first idea I had for A&A, so I'm putting this up first. It's a two-part futurefic, AU in that everything happened like it did in the show with Austin's career, but Ally never got over her stage fright on the show, so never had her own record deal. That's the only difference. A huge thank you to the lovely_ Got2LiveItBigTime, _for reading over this for me before I posted it, and for just generally being a cracking human being. Go and check out her own A&A story! Other than that, enjoy!_

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i  


She closed her eyes and smiled.

There was no need for her to look at her fingers as they trailed across the piano keys, or at the sheet music in front of her. She knew this song well enough by now. Instead she could just relax into it, enjoy the sax and trumpet playing next to her, tune out the low hum of people chattering in the bar.

Jazz nights were her favourite.

"Our wonderful jazz band, ladies and gents," her manager said, as the song died away with one last flourish of the piano and a final drum beat.

Ally Dawson smiled at the applauding audience before the lights dimmed and she could leave the stage.

This had been her job for three years now, and she couldn't imagine doing anything else. Sure it didn't pay brilliantly, but it was the most fun she'd had with music in years.

Ally had never seen herself as a jazz musician, but an ad in the window of a bar had caught her attention one day. She'd stepped inside to ask more about the job and fallen in love.

Even in the day, this place was magical. All of the furniture, including the bar that ran the length of one of the walls, was dark wood, polished and shiny. Each of the little round tables had a candle glowing in the middle, and long ceiling lamps hung low and burned softly. It was impossible to find any bit of wall that wasn't covered in black and white images of musical legends of the past, or framed records, or photos of Lou shaking hands with various musicians that had stopped by this place.

This was a place where music was respected, and Ally felt at home. The little bar had been closed when she'd pushed that door open, so she had plenty of time to stand and stare before suddenly realising someone was watching her.

"We're not open yet," the old man had said in a deep voice, with a knowing smile. "But I've got a feeling you're not here for food and drink, Miss..."

"Ally," she'd smiled, instantly feeling at ease around him. "Ally Dawson."

"Well, pleased to meet you, Miss Ally. My name's Lou. Can I help you then?"

She blushed, straightening out the pleats of the skirt she was wearing. His lazy smile had broadened at her behaviour. He knew exactly why she was here. He'd seen her stop and pause in the window. She was surprising though; her fingers looked thin and nimble, obviously well-used to sliding up and down a piano scale, but she didn't strike him as a jazz player.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to just barge in, I was reading the advert and-"

"You play piano?" he'd asked, unnecessarily.

"Yes," she nodded. "But-"

"You've never played jazz," he finished for her, interrupting yet again with that smooth, low voice.

"But I can learn," she said enthusiastically. "I'm sure I could pick it up in no time, I've been around music my whole life."

"Well, is that so?" Lou asked, his face breaking into a grin. He liked this young woman - she could only have been in her early twenties, but her face looked younger and her eyes, much, much older.

"I just need a job, and if I can go back to that, back to being around music all the time," she sighed, forgetting herself. "That'd be pretty amazing."

"What do you do at the moment, Miss Ally?"

"Oh, well right now I'm studying music at MUNY. I have two years left there."

"Do you enjoy your course?"

"Of course I do," she smiled, her voice warm. "I've always wanted to be here. But I want music to be fun too, not just always part of my education."

"Can you waitress?"

"Maybe," she shrugged. "I've never tried."

"Well listen here then. Why don't you leave me with your number, and I'll have a think about things. You're not the only one who's stopped by for the job... but you are the most unexpected."

"Which is a good thing, right?" Ally grinned in a goofy way, immediately regretting it. "Um, I'll just write my number down for you."

She hastily noted it down on a slip of paper and walked over to hand it to him. Neither of them had moved since she'd stepped inside the shop - she'd stood there, nervously playing with the strap of her purse, while he'd observed her, a tea towel over his shoulder, his arms folded.

"I'll get back to you within a week," he told her.

"Thank you," she said, sticking her hand out and taking him by surprise. "It was nice to meet you, Mr..."

"Just call me Lou," he laughed. "Been that long since anyone's called me by my last name, I've nearly forgotten it myself. It was nice to meet you too, Miss Ally Dawson."

They'd shook hands, his huge bear hand completely engulfing hers, and then she'd walked back out of the little bar she'd never set foot in before, the bar that would soon become her second home. Lou Robinson, as she'd later learned was his name, didn't bother waiting the week. He'd phoned her the very next day and told her the job was hers if she still wanted it.

And she did. So she'd taken it, and she'd never looked back. Back then she'd spent her days at university, and a couple of nights a week plus weekends at the bar. Now she'd graduated, she spent three nights a week playing in their jazz band and three nights waitressing during intimate live performances from other bands, occasionally accompanying singers for their open mic nights. The pay was just about enough for her little apartment in the city, and Ally was happy and content in her musical heaven.

Nights like tonight, Ally doubted anything could make her happier.

She stepped off the little stage after the performance, no more than a black platform at the back of room, surrounded by various microphones, speakers and wires, and made her way through the maze of tables, thanking everyone who complimented her as she passed them.

"Another great performance," her friend Bea smiled, as Ally quickly ducked behind the bar to put her apron on.

"Thank you," she grinned, standing up to take the tray of drinks someone was handing to her.

Bea was probably the closest thing Ally had to a best friend out here. Lou's granddaughter, she waitressed with Ally, but spent the rest of her time learning how to do business from her grandfather. Ally had absolutely no desire to ever learn how to balance the books and sort out orders, while Bea didn't have a musical bone in her body. She'd grown up with jazz music, and she loved to listen to it, but she admired Ally for the way she could just stroll up there and get lost in the music.

Ally had never thought she'd turn to jazz. The day she'd stopped by the bar, she'd figured this would just be a job until she could find something better, a way to earn money through college. She'd spent her youth writing pop songs, or rock songs for a boy she'd once loved, and her college course had focused on classical music. Her dad had always tried to educate her, playing her every genre around, but jazz had never really grabbed her.

It was fun though. It was so fun. The breaks in the song, when all eyes were on her as she played around with chords and notes, doing whatever she wanted, there was an energy she'd never had before. The music didn't need to be perfectly set out on sheets before her, and she didn't need to play every single note in order to not mess the song up. Instead she had bars and bars of improvisation, when her fingers danced and no one, not even she, knew what was going to happen next.

It was certainly the biggest adrenaline rush she was ever going to get sat at a piano.

She liked the intimacy of this gig too. The fact that there was never going to be more than a hundred people in this room was reassuring. Big shows had never really been her thing.

Still, despite it all, Ally found herself lonely at times. She'd always wanted to come to New York, and after spending four years here, she now couldn't bear to leave, but she knew virtually no one aside from her course mates, and since college had finished, a lot of them had moved on. Trish, still her best friend, had stayed in Miami all this time, a three hour plane journey away. They tried to stay in touch on the phone, but it wasn't quite the same.

What Ally needed, everyone told her, was a man. Someone to go home to after work, someone to spend lazy Sundays with. Or, failing that, a dog, as Trish had suggested.

Ally didn't think she needed to find anybody though, nor did she need a pet. Most of her free time was still spent writing songs; now that she'd graduated, she was going to need to try and get her foot on the career ladder again at some point. After all, playing a little jazz bar was quite the step down considering she had a degree from MUNY. For now she was staying put, but she probably wouldn't stay here forever.

"In five minutes time, we'll begin the open mic," Lou's deep voice boomed over the speakers, as Ally threaded her way through the tables to take the last drinks orders from people sat at the front.

Ally grinned. She loved the open mic nights, especially when they followed on from a performance like tonight did. The bar was rammed, earlybirds sat at the tables and latecomers standing around the back. Lou was usually to be found in the corner by the stage, just smiling at the scene in front of him.

The evening wore on and Ally fulfilled her waitress role mindlessly, as she did every night, focusing more on the music being played. What the lyrics were saying, or what that chord progression was, or whether she could play around with that riff in one of her own songs. Open mic nights inspired her. Though this was strictly a jazz bar, the open mic nights often branched out into other genres, styles of songs she'd never even heard of before.

As it drew closer to closing time, Ally found herself yawning. There could only be a few more acts left, surely. She wasn't listening as hard anymore, trying to discreetly start doing the end of day chores with Bea. They weren't technically supposed to start them until the customers had all left, but the little kitchen that served snacks had long closed, so they usually got to work on cleaning it.

The noise was muffled in the kitchen, the music quieter, which meant the girls could whisper to each other.

"I'm so tired," Ally sighed, running a bucket of hot, soapy water.

"Tell me about it," Bea nodded, stifling a yawn herself. "I swear tonight's gone on longer than it usually does."

"It's only half twelve," Ally said, checking her watch. "No different to any other."

"I guess we've been busy then, because I could drop off right now."

"Same," Ally said, thinking of her bed longingly. "Do you know how many more acts were on the list?"

"Nope, but probably not very many," Bea replied. "Ah, applause. I wonder if this'll be the last."

The girls paused what they were doing to listen closely to Lou's deep voice.

"Well, only two left, folks," he announced, and the girls smiled at one another. Not long to go. "Our next performer is Austin..."

"Just Austin," a voice replied.

Ally felt her stomach drop.

"Our next performer is just Austin," Lou said, with a hearty laugh. "Enjoy."

"What's wrong with you?" Bea laughed. "You've gone white."

Ally didn't reply, simply walking back through the kitchen door in a daze to stand at the edge of the room. She stayed in the shadows, trying to watch the man on stage without being noticed.

"Hey guys," said the man sat on a bar stool on the stage, holding a guitar and playing around with it. He was wearing a beanie hat, but the blonde hair that stuck out at the bottom was a giveaway. "I er, I always kind of introduce myself, before I play, I hope that's okay."

Ally frowned. He sounded... nervous.

"I know that this is a jazz bar, but I don't know a whole lot of jazz," he continued, his face and voice apologetic. "I can play you a slow song though, and you know, if you hate it, feel free to throw tomatoes or something."

Slight amusement rippled through the crowd, and Ally found herself grinning without realising. Then she frowned, frowned at him for making her smile.

Austin was here. Here. In New York City. In a little old jazz bar, tucked away on a side street, with only his guitar. Austin.

She was confused, to say the least. Last time she'd checked up on him, because of course she still wanted to know how he was doing, even if they hadn't spoken in four years, he was on a North American tour. And seeing as the last time she'd checked up on him was yesterday, she highly doubted much had changed in twenty-four hours.

He was meant to be selling out stadiums, so she couldn't for the life of her work out why he was here, or how he'd managed to escape. The beanie was a poor disguise - she'd only had to hear his voice to come dashing out of the kitchen. Then again, not a lot of people would know Austin Moon's voice anywhere, because Austin Moon's voice didn't haunt a lot of people's dreams. Factor in that most of the people in this club had probably never even heard of him, and Ally suddenly found herself impressed.

If he didn't want to be recognised, he'd come to the right place. The boy had brains. Or man, she should say.

He'd grown up, filled out a little more, looked wiser. It was strange to see, but then she supposed she'd grown up too. They both had. Four years was a long time.

"So, I wrote this song when I was younger, back in high school actually, with my best friend. Actually, she wrote most of it. But I've worked on it a bit since then," he reassured the room.

Ally blinked.

"The song is called Not A Love Song. Which is funny because when I sing it, I only think of one girl, and I should have sung her a million love songs. Hope you enjoy."

Her breath hitched.

She shook her head. No. Austin was not singing this song about her, she was not the girl he had in mind. Austin had broken many hearts before they'd gone their separate ways, hers included, so there were several girls this could be about.

"The girl it's about, she was the one who wrote it. I don't really play a lot of the stuff we wrote together anymore, but I figured I should hold onto this song because, well, I never managed to hold on to her. Anyway, I guess I should stop telling you my life story, and just get on with it."

With that, Austin began picking out the first few notes of the song on his guitar, and started to sing a soft, stripped down version of their song.

Ally was frozen to the spot. Well that had narrowed it down just a little bit.

Her hands shaking, Ally pushed her way back through the crowd into the kitchen, where Bea was looking at her like she'd lost her mind. She felt sick, unable to handle all of the emotions coursing through her. She was angry, she was sad, she was happy, she was absolutely furious. Every feeling she thought she'd buried came rushing to the surface, and she felt overwhelmed.

"What just happened?" Bea asked, her hands on her hips, the pots she'd been washing abandoned in the sink.

"I er, I just..."

Ally stumbled on her words. She had no explanation for this one. She'd heard a voice and wondered if it was her long-lost mega-famous one-time best friend, and it was, and he was currently declaring his undying love for her through the medium of song.

"Needed some air," she said eventually.

Bea raised an eyebrow.

"You thought you'd get more air if you left the cool, empty kitchen to go into the hot, stuffy, crowded bar?"

"Yep," Ally nodded, grinning.

"You confuse me at times," Bea said, shaking her head. "So, what's the guy playing out there like? He sounds cute."

"He's nothing special," Ally shrugged, gnawing jealousy in her stomach, as she went back over to her mop.

"Ouch," Bea laughed. Heavy applause sounded from the other room, and Bea turned back to Ally. "Sounds like there's a whole bar that disagrees with you."

"He's just not to my taste," Ally said airily.

The kitchen door swung open, and Rob, one of the bartenders, stuck his head through.

"Dawson, Lou needs you."

"Why?" she asked, having started cleaning the floor.

"The open mic act needs piano. Sooner rather than later."

"What?" Ally asked, her eyes widening. "No, no, no, I cannot go out there and play piano."

"Yes you can," Bea said slowly.

"It's kind of your job," Rob added.

"What if I don't want to?"

"My grandad will fire you?" Bea suggested, shooting her a questioning look. "Come on, get your skinny little butt over to that piano stool already."

Ally sighed, reluctantly drying her mop and propping it up against the wall again.

"Take your sweet time," Rob hissed.

Knowing if she stalled much longer, she might just lose her job, Ally untied her apron, handed it to Bea, and followed Rob out to the waiting audience, and the waiting Austin.

"Finally," Lou laughed down the microphone. "Our piano player again, ladies and gentlemen, Miss Ally-"

Ally narrowed her eyes at him, motioning for him to stop his introduction right there by miming slicing her neck with her hand.

"Okay, Miss Ally, everyone. Apparently no one's doing surnames tonight."

There was a round of applause as Ally made her way to the piano, keeping her head down. Austin was thankfully playing with his guitar strings, eyes focused on his instrument rather than on her.

She took her place, trying to shield her face behind the lid of the piano. Looking around for what she was playing, Ally was dismayed to not find any music anywhere. Austin had obviously forgotten to pass it on. Now she was going to have to talk to him.

"Do you have any sheet music or anything?" Ally asked, trying to put a deeper voice on and attempting to direct her question at Austin without looking at him.

"Oh," Austin laughed, standing up and reaching into his back pocket. "I scribbled down a few chords, I figured you could maybe improvise?"

He walked towards her, still trying to get the crumpled piece of paper out of his jeans. When he finally succeeded, he grinned, glancing up and handing it to her over the top of the piano. Ally tried to keep her head down, but she had to look up to take it from him.

The moment their eyes met, the smile from Austin's face disappeared in a second. Ally blushed, taking the paper from him silently, propping it up on the music stand and staring at it pointedly.

"Ally?" he asked in a soft voice, but Lou cleared his throat to the side of them.

Without a word, Ally began playing the piano chords, leaving Austin no choice but to sit back down and join in. The moment she started playing, Ally knew exactly what song it was.

One summer afternoon and they'd been trying to write a proper love song for once. This had been after Austin was offered a record contract, and they'd realised that his album couldn't be fully made up of upbeat dance songs. He needed some slower pieces as well, to strike a nice balance. They'd carried on all night, working through the sun setting and finishing when it rose again.

Ally's tiny practice room had never felt so electric, and when they'd first sung the completed song together, there had been a spark neither of them wanted to read any more into. They'd mutually agreed that this song would never leave that room, their own little secret, passing it off as being too different to the other songs. It had been a beautiful song, but they each knew the inspiration behind their suggestions for lyrics, and neither wanted to take that first step yet.

She'd never imagined herself playing it with him again, let alone after they hadn't spoken for four years, in a crowded bar.

The emotion in Austin's voice was raw as they made their way through the song. She'd never heard it like that, not in the time she'd known him in, nor in the hundreds of performances he'd given since making a name for himself. Ally didn't know if it was because of what the song meant, or if it was because Austin hadn't expected to be singing it with the girl he'd written it with tonight, but there was something else there she still wasn't ready to read deeper into.

Halfway through the song, Ally forgot that they were in her little jazz bar. All she could see was Austin in that spotlight, and they were suddenly seventeen again, sat bunched up together on a tiny piano stool. She began harmonising with his singing, remembering the lyrics as clearly as if she'd written the song yesterday.

If Austin was surprised, he didn't show it. She wondered if maybe he'd forgotten where they were too.

That night, in a relatively unknown jazz bar, Austin Moon and Ally Dawson recreated their old magic, leaving an entire room spellbound and silenced. When the song ended though, and the slow applause turned into thunderous clapping and cheering, Ally slipped off her piano stool and walked away without another word, without another glance at him.

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_A/N: Yeah I'm kinda mean for cliffhangers and just generally dramatic endings. Sorry about that. I'm not entirely sure when the next part will be up, because I haven't actually finished it yet, but it shouldn't be too far away. Also, if you liked this, I'm definitely writing more A&A in the near future, so stay tuned! If you want little snippets as I write, follow me on twitter/tumblr via the links on my profile. Thank you so much for reading! Reviews will get a sneak peek of the next part _:)


	2. ii

ii

Austin sat there, stunned.

The people sat in this tiny bar he'd stumbled across were still applauding their performance, or whatever had just happened, but he could barely hear them. All he could focus on were Ally's curls, disappearing amongst the crowd and seemingly melting into thin air.

He was shaking. Never in a million years had he thought he'd come to New York tonight and come across the girl who had always been his biggest regret.

Remembering himself, and trying to slow his racing heart, Austin grinned at the people sat in front of him, nodding his head.

"Thank you so much," he said, leaning into the microphone again. "This has been fun."

His voice sounded slightly strangled but it was the best he could manage in the present situation. If the people in the bar thought something odd was going on, they were doing a good job of disguising it. The only person that shot him a confused look was the friendly bar owner he'd spoken to earlier, when he'd signed up for the open mic slot. He'd definitely been close enough to catch the moment when Austin and Ally had laid eyes on each other again.

Ally had blushed, making his heart skip a couple of beats, and he'd just stared at her. Thinking about it now, Austin shook his head at himself, as he hopped off the bar stool he'd performed on and headed to the side of the stage for his guitar case. Why had he just stared? Not to mention that the only coherent thing he'd managed to say was her name. He could have smiled, told her it was great to see her, casually slip in that he was still in love with her. Anything. Anything would have been better than what had happened.

"Is everything okay, my boy?" said the owner of the bar, making him jump. "You and my piano player looked like... well, you looked and sounded like you might have done this before."

"We have," Austin replied simply, fixing his guitar inside its well-worn case and extending a hand to the bearlike man. "Thanks for letting me perform. It was great."

With that he picked his guitar up and headed in the direction he'd seen Ally go.

Behind him, the final open mic guest was being introduced, but Austin let the noise wash over him. He would have liked to have listened, having enjoyed all of the performances so far tonight, but something, or rather someone, else, had just taken priority.

Apologising to everyone in the audience he bashed with his guitar, Austin spied a door and headed for it.

"Woah, staff only," a bartender said quietly, sticking a hand out to block him from opening it.

"I just need to speak to Ally," Austin pleaded in a whisper, looking at the guy desperately.

The man frowned at him, then stuck his head round the door to call into what looked like it might be the kitchen.

"Dawson, mystery guitar boy wants to speak to you."

The bartender stepped back from the door, letting it close again and shrugging at him. Austin's stomach dropped. Ally clearly did not want to speak to him. Not that she'd made this anything less than obvious when she'd all but run away from the stage, but he desperately wanted to talk to her again, even just see her.

Austin turned away, but let out a small yelp when someone grabbed his arm and pulled him through the door roughly.

He blinked as the door closed behind him, finding himself face to face with Ally.

She looked at him expectantly, an eyebrow raised, her arms folded.

"I'm at work here, Austin," she said, and for all her tough exterior, her voice was weary. "What do you want?"

Austin pulled his beanie off nervously, running a hand through his flattened hair. He hadn't really thought of what he wanted to say, all he knew was that he wanted to say something. Before he could do anything though, there was a muffled squeal from in the corner, and he realised they weren't alone.

"Oh my god, is this really happening?" a girl said breathlessly, staring at him from a sink full of pots and pans. "Are you, are you-"

"Yes, Bea, he's who you think he is," Ally said sharply, and the girl began to all but hyperventilate. "And he's not that special."

Austin felt like he'd just been winded.

He knew that what he'd done back then had been wrong, but he'd thought four years might have softened her a little.

"Austin, what do you want?" Ally demanded again, tapping her foot. "I know you're some famous rockstar now, but the rest of us have jobs, we're normal, and we don't want to get fired. I have stuff to do."

"I'm sorry," Austin said, tripping over his words. "I er, you were really good on the piano. Thanks for accompanying me."

"You two sounded so great together, do you know each other or something?" Bea asked, her own work happily forgotten. "You sound like you've done it before."

"That's what the bar owner said," Austin grinned.

"My grandad knows his music," Bea nodded, smiling at him shyly.

"Maybe I didn't make myself clear enough, I have stuff to do," Ally interrupted. "If all you wanted to do was compliment me on my piano skills, thank you, and goodbye."

"Ally, what is wrong with you?" Bea snorted, a bemused expression on her face. "You're talking to Austin Moon here. Austin Moon. You can't be mean."

"Oh, really?" she asked harshly, shooting a look at Austin that made his insides curl.

"No," continued Bea, not having noticed the exchange in the dimly lit kitchen. "It's Austin Moon! Everyone loves him."

"Well they shouldn't," Ally said, and her voice cracked.

Her face slipped for a moment, the perfectly constructed expression of indifference she'd been wearing disappearing. For a second, Austin looked into her heartbroken eyes and found himself standing in her practice room four years ago.

Telling her that he was going back on tour. Telling her that he would probably be gone for more than three months this time. Telling her that he shouldn't have kissed her the night before, and told her that he loved her, because he did, he really did, but now he was going to have to leave her.

He'd promised her he wouldn't. She'd stopped him saying those three words, because she didn't want him to say them if they weren't going to be able to work. And he'd promised her that he was here to stay, that he wasn't going anywhere. Promised.

She'd cried. Austin had never seen Ally cry until that day. And he'd been the cause. Austin had broken Ally's heart and with some choice words, Ally had kicked him out of the room they'd made so many memories in and told him not to ever bother coming back to see her.

She loved him too, but she'd told him not to make promises he couldn't keep. And this was why.

And now Ally was here, four years later, and she was still wearing that same expression. She was still feeling the same hurt and anger she had back then.

"Ally," Austin began, his voice agonised. He didn't even know what he could say to make this better. He hadn't been able to think of anything four years ago, on the spot. He had no chance of appeasing her now.

He didn't even know her anymore.

The Ally that he'd left behind was a songwriter, sweet and mild-mannered, not the most confident on stage. And now he was looking at a young woman who played piano in a jazz band, assured and capable of putting him down.

"I was telling the truth," he began. "When I said that stuff before I played the song. If you heard it-"

"I heard it. Look, Austin, I don't even know how you found this place, but why don't we just pretend you never came here, we never saw each other, and you can just hop back on that tour bus and carry on with your life, while I carry on with mine."

"But-"

"Goodbye."

Ally's tone made it pretty clear to Austin where he stood. Sighing, he nodded at her and pulled the familiar beanie over his trademark hair.

"If you could not mention that I was here tonight," he directed at Ally's friend, who was watching the drama unfold between them with an almost gleeful expression. Clearly this was the most exciting thing she'd seen in a while. "No one's really supposed to know that I'm here."

She nodded frantically, and he gave her a thumbs up, his expression still grim. Right now, he didn't care whether she told or not to be honest. Nothing was going to make him feel any worse tonight.

Turning to leave, Austin had one hand on the door when Ally suddenly called his name.

He looked back, surprised, and apparently she was too, a hand over her mouth. Her eyes were wide, as if she'd never meant to say it.

"You were good tonight," she said eventually as he waited to hear what she wanted. The way she blurted out the sentiment suggested to him that she'd planned to say something else, but that was what she was going with.

"So were you," he told her, genuinely meaning it, then attempted to leave again, no interruptions this time.

As the kitchen door closed behind him, he realised the sound he could hear was of her crying.

Feeling wretched, Austin quietly made his way through the rest of the audience and slipped out of the packed jazz bar, enjoying the way the cold wind hit him the moment he stepped outside. Pulling the hat down further over his ears and shoving his hands into his pockets, Austin trudged his way through the streets of New York City, wherever this jazz bar was.

He had no idea where he was going, where he was headed, he just wanted time to think before he went back to the tour bus.

Austin's disappearing act at night was nothing new after all.

Since he'd begun this latest tour, Austin had been heading out to open mic nights at local bars whenever he could. The six month tour he'd gone on after leaving Ally had been hard enough, but this latest one was worldwide. He'd already been on the road for four months, and between holidays, travelling and making time to write songs for his next album, the tour was expected to last a year or so.

Although Austin loved his job, and wouldn't trade it for the world, it got a little overwhelming at times. Nowadays, the show was so big, with so many theatrics, that the music got a little lost at times, amongst the performance. Fans were more there just to see him than to listen to him sing.

Austin missed the music. He didn't have a practice room belonging to the pretty girl at the local music shop to escape to anymore. Singing on the tour bus was usually out of the question, because after listening to the same songs night after night, his crew were happy to take a break from Austin's voice. He never got a chance to just play music nowadays.

The idea to stop by local bars had first popped into his head when he'd spotted an ad for an open mic night in the window of a late-night coffee place somewhere. The city hadn't been important, but the idea had been.

They'd played two shows there before moving on, and on the second night, once the concert had ended, Austin had slipped away to hunt the cafe down again. He told his tour manager that he was just going for a walk, and that he'd be totally fine. Made up some lie about writing songs best when he was alone with his thoughts. Truth was, Austin's greatest songs hadn't been written when he was alone at all.

Pulling on a hat, he'd figured it was unlikely that anyone in attendance at a coffee shop open mic night would recognise him, especially if he was going to sing with just his guitar.

The first time he'd done it had been terrifying and liberating. He'd decided to play some of his old songs, figuring they were less well-known by now, but spent most of the song afraid that he'd forget the lyrics. Fortunately the words came to him even when he wasn't expecting them to, and he realised that if he just carried on playing, his subconscious would provide him with the lyrics without him even noticing. Instead he could focus on actually playing his guitar, with skill, rather than just the odd parts of songs he accompanied on stage. And when Austin had settled into it, he'd found himself enjoying it. Really enjoying it. Remembering why he loved music in the first place. The applause had been exciting, because for the first time in a long time, people were praising him for his talent, rather than clapping because they had to.

That night had sparked something in him. He'd since hunted down low-key, relatively unknown open mic nights whenever he could, trying to get round the music genre issue with his smile and his songs. Tonight had been a jazz bar, but last night had been a folk night, and last week he'd chilled in a country venue for a few sessions. As long as he went nowhere he stood a good chance of being recognised, he was fine.

Austin's tour performances had never been so electric, and he found himself improving as an artist after listening to the other open mic acts. He listened to what the lyrics were saying, or what that chord progression was, or whether he could play around with that riff in one of his own songs. Open mic nights inspired him.

Tonight had been a little different though.

Austin sighed, shaking his head as he went back through the events that had transpired. The worst part was that despite what had happened afterwards, he couldn't help feeling giddy over the fact he'd performed with Ally again, and they hadn't lost it, at all. There was still something there.

He'd left her again though. They'd performed a song together, sprinkled magic over their audience, and then he'd just made her cry again.

Just like last time.

Austin came to an abrupt halt in his wandering of the streets.

He wasn't even sure of where he was headed, but suddenly knew that any direction other than the one from which he'd come was entirely wrong. Night had well and truly fallen by now, the harsh orange streetlights guiding his way back across the dark, hard sidewalk. The roads were deserted, which was probably for the best. A man running around with a guitar strapped to his back would possibly have attracted attention.

If he'd had enough breath, Austin would have cursed at himself. Why had he left? He should have just waited outside for her. Like he was ever realistically going to have been able to get on that bus and drive away somewhere leaving things at that. The night had been wrapping up, it wouldn't have been long until she'd finished her shift. He groaned, praying she hadn't already gone home.

He was an idiot. He'd been in love with this girl for four years, and he wasn't about to lose her again now that he'd found her.

This is going to make one hell of a song, he thought idly as he ran.

Trusting his feet to know where they were going, and pretty sure he'd just walked in a straight line anyway, Austin ran, his head a jumbled mess. Ahead of him he could see a huddle of people standing outside what looked like the little bar, starting to disperse. Relieved that he'd somehow, miraculously found his way back, Austin saw no other option.

"Ally!" he cried at the top of his lungs, his voice echoing around the empty streets.

Every single one of the employees turned to his voice, most of them wearing surprised expressions. Austin hardly spared them a glance though, his attention entirely focused on the shocked face of one Ally Dawson.

She looked for a moment like she might just walk away, but suddenly her expression softened and he caught the most beautiful smile in the world, even if it was just for a fleeting second.

Austin flew over to her, panting heavily but relieved that he'd managed to find her.

"Oh to be young and in love again," the bar owner laughed from somewhere behind them, his voice deep and booming even without a microphone.

"I'm expecting all of the details tomorrow," the girl Austin had met earlier called to Ally, not caring that Austin could hear what she was saying.

Slowly the rest of the staff drifted away, even the pull of a romantic drama not enough to keep them from their warm beds gone one in the morning.

Eventually Austin got his breath back, and straightened out, looking down at Ally, whose eyes were full of questions.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, looking up at him curiously.

"I couldn't leave you again, not like this," he explained, drinking in every last detail of her appearance, so he could savour it in the future.

The way she'd taken the highlights out of her hair, so it was all one glossy brown colour, or the way she'd cut it a little shorter again, like it was the first time he'd met her. The leather jacket she was wearing that made him go weak at the knees, but underneath was the cute kind of dress he was used to. The fact she was wearing just a little more mascara nowadays, and it was currently smudging in the rain.

Suddenly becoming aware of his surroundings again, Austin blinked.

"It's raining," he stated, and Ally smiled in spite of herself.

"Well done, genius."

Not knowing what to do but feeling like he had to be a gentleman somehow, Austin pulled his hat off and placed it on Ally's head, regretting it when he realised she looked better in it than he ever did.

"Thanks," she said dryly, raising an eyebrow but adjusting it to be comfy all the same. "Austin, why- why did you come back? I thought I made things pretty clear before."

"I left you behind crying. I'm not making the same mistake twice," he told her.

Her brow furrowed, and she closed her eyes for a second. Austin hoped it was because her stomach was as twisted as his was.

"Austin," she began, scrunching her nose as if she was trying to figure out how to say what she wanted to. "It's sweet that you came back for me, but I don't have anything to really say to you. We lead two very separate, very different lives now, and I haven't forgotten how our friendship ended."

"Ally, I'm so sorry, " Austin said, looking her straight in the eyes. "I really am. Please can we talk? Just for a little while? I never thought I'd see you again. I can't leave you now without at least-"

"I don't think that's such a good idea," she said apologetically, cutting him off. "I'm tired, and I should be off home, and I'm sure you have somewhere to be too."

"Exactly," Austin nodded. "I do. Tomorrow morning, me and the band are headed somewhere else again. We're probably never going to see each other again. So please just give me this one night. Please."

"One night for what? What do you even want?"

"To apologise properly, to find out what you've been up to, to figure out what's going through your head, all sorts."

"Why is it that important?" Ally sighed.

"Because it's you," Austin said simply. "And you've always been important."

"Austin," she said, looking like she was going to cry again. He panicked. That hadn't been the idea at all.

"Okay, fine, if you can tell me truthfully that you really don't care about me anymore, that you've totally moved on with your life, I'll leave you alone. I'll walk away right now. But if not, just let me spend a few hours with you, Ally, please. It's one night. And then I'll be gone anyway."

Ally chewed her lip, blinking the light rain out of her eyes. She hadn't exactly expected any sort of reunion with Austin to take place in the early hours of the morning in a deserted city street, but here they were. And as she looked up at him, at the face that hadn't changed in four years, she knew she couldn't lie to him.

"Of course I still care about you," she said finally. His face split into a grin.

"So you'll talk to me for a bit? Catch up?"

"You can walk me home to my apartment," she reasoned with him. "And once we get there, you leave. Deal?"

"How far away is your apartment?"

"Twenty minutes."

Austin's face fell for a moment, but the expression soon passed, realising that twenty minutes with her was better than nothing at all.

"Deal," he nodded with a sigh, knowing it was the best he was going to get.

They began heading in the direction of Ally's apartment, both a little unsure of themselves. Austin was faced with the same situation as before; he had Ally's attention, and he knew he had to say something, but there was nothing he could say. Realistically he knew that he just wanted to ask her to drop everything, join him on tour, and stay with him forever, but that was probably not the best approach.

"So do you have a boyfriend?" he asked confidently, grinning at her.

Ally looked up at him with wide eyes.

"That seems a little personal," she said, sounding taken aback. "I thought you wanted to know how I'd been."

"Fine, how have you been?"

"Great, thanks."

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

"Austin," Ally groaned, starting to remember how arrogant he could be at times.

"You may as well answer me," he shrugged, his smile wide. Now that he had Ally's attention, he was going to use it to his full advantage. "You get rid of me in a few minutes."

"And what makes you think I'll tell you the truth?" she countered.

"Because you're you. And you'll always tell me the truth, no matter how much you hate me."

"I don't hate you," she sighed. "Strong dislike, maybe."

He nudged her and she giggled.

"So answer me."

"Were you always this persistent? No, I don't have a boyfriend. Are you happy now?"

"Most definitely," Austin smiled, and Ally didn't have the energy to ask him whether he was happy at the fact she'd answered, or the answer itself. "Have you had any other boyfriends since school?"

"No way, we're going one for one here," Ally protested. "If you get to ask questions, I get to ask questions too."

"Is that so?" Austin teased, looking down at her and enjoying seeing her smile again.

"It is. So do you have a girlfriend?" she smirked.

"No, I don't have a girlfriend. Happy?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," she said airily, and Austin's stomach did a double flip.

"How did you end up at a jazz bar?" was his next question.

"I needed a job, and it kind of stuck," she shrugged, and he was pleased to hear the happiness in her voice. As long as she was happy, he was happy. "How did you end up at a jazz bar? I think that's the real question here."

"Are you going to keep repeating what I ask you?"

"My question first."

"Fine, I've been playing open mic nights for a while. I miss performing."

"Austin, you're on a tour," Ally said dryly. "You perform every night."

"Okay, I miss singing. Like, really singing. Just getting lost in a song."

Ally looked up at him, and Austin smiled at her. He was starting to feel less and less like they were walking down a dark NYC street in drizzling rain, and instead like they were leaning across the counter talking to one another at the shop in Miami again.

"That's sweet. In answer to your question, yes I'll keep repeating what you ask, you're asking good questions."

"That was not my question!" Austin protested.

"Should've thought about it more carefully then, shouldn't you?" Ally laughed.

"Have you always been this annoying?" he muttered.

"Yes," she answered definitively, sticking her tongue out.

They went back and forth like this for a long time, Ally's hesitancy at talking to him slowly fading away. He'd still broken her heart, and she wouldn't forget that, but tonight he came back for her, and that meant something to her. She had to be careful though. This conversation was nothing more than what it was. Neither of them could fool themselves into thinking otherwise, because Ally couldn't go through that again.

Eventually enough time passed for Austin to break out of his Ally bubble momentarily and notice the graffiti they'd passed three times now. His sudden break in focusing solely on her was accompanied by noticing that at some point they'd started holding hands, and that he wasn't ready to let go yet.

"Ally," he said, interrupting whatever she'd been saying. "Are you lost? I think we've walked in circles."

"Busted," she mumbled, looking up at him sheepishly. "I'm sorry. We got to my apartment, and you were right in the middle of that story about the fan who followed you to your hotel room. And then the next time I was telling you about Trish's new job. And the time after that, I just didn't want to stop talking to you."

She stopped them in their tracks, looking up at him apologetically.

"Don't be sorry," he told her, taking her other hand. "I don't want to stop talking to you either."

"We probably should say goodbye at some point though," she sighed. "It's going to get light soon, and I have places to be in the morning. My apartment's just down the road."

She let go of both his hands and started walking, shoving her hands into her pockets and keeping her head down.

"Ally," Austin called, catching up with her easily.

She carried on walking for a moment, eventually pausing outside the entrance to an apartment block. He guessed this was it then.

"Will you answer one last question?" he asked, as she turned to look up at him.

"I guess."

"Do you promise to ask me the same question again?"

"I don't really do promises," she told him in a hard voice.

"Just this once," he said, feeling guilty.

"What's the question?"

"Do you still love me?"

Ally blinked at him, then threw her head back and groaned, marching a few steps away.

"Okay, that wasn't the response I expected," he said nervously, walking over to her. "Problem?"

"Yes, there's a problem," Ally told him, shaking her head.

"Do you not want to answer?"

"That isn't the problem."

"Then what is the problem?"

"I don't want you to answer."

Austin stepped closer to her, catching her hands again.

"Why?" he asked softly, leaning in to her a little.

"Don't do that," she sighed.

The rain had died down to a trickle by now, and a few of the streetlights had gone out, so they were dimly lit. Ally could only see one side of Austin's face, the other hidden in shadow, but she didn't need to be able to see him to know what he was thinking. She could hear it in his voice.

Resolve crumbling a little, Ally began to move closer to him too, but as she did, she remembered the time it had taken her to move on from this boy last time, and she could not do that again.

Pulling away, Ally slid Austin's beanie off her soft curls and pressed it to his chest, not wanting to look at him. It was enough to tell him how she felt; no words were needed.

Of course she still loved him. And she didn't need him to remind her that he still loved her too. It couldn't work though. Not while Austin was still touring, and not while Ally was trying to figure out what she should be doing with her life. So they'd have to put their feelings aside, as always, and maybe hope that they'd find themselves outside Ally's apartment in the rain some other time. Some other time, when this could work.

"Keep it," he said with a heavy voice, realising she wanted him to leave now.

"It's yours, I can't keep it. Don't you like it?"

"I love it," he nodded. "It's my favourite hat. So if you hang on to it, one day I'll have to come back for it. I pr-"

"Don't make me another promise, Austin," she said sadly, gripping the soft, grey material which stood for so much more.

"Okay, I'll come back for it... I pinky swear?"

Ally giggled, and his face brightened for a moment.

"You know if you break a pinky swear, I have to break your finger?"

"Better than me breaking your heart," Austin said solemnly. "Ally, you know I'm sorry, right? If I never see you again, never hear from you again, if you forget everything we said tonight, please just remember that."

"Okay," she nodded, stepping towards him again to give him a hug.

He wrapped his arms round her tightly, wishing they could stay like this for days, Ally in his arms, nothing else really mattering.

"Thank you for coming back," she smiled, as she pulled away and began walking towards the door. "I'm sorry that I wouldn't speak to you at work. I was shocked, and I've spent so many years angry at you. If you hadn't come back, I'd still be like that."

"But now?"

"Now I know you're sorry. And that you're happy. And that one day you'll be back," she said, waving the hat at him that she was still holding on to for dear life.

"Don't forget me, Ally," he called, as he started to walk back up the street.

"As long as you don't forget me, Austin," she replied, waving him a goodbye.

She watched him all the way up the street, watched as he turned the corner with one final wave, and then he was gone again. She stayed out there for another ten minutes, just holding his hat, watching the spot where he'd disappeared, until she finally turned to head inside, her heart lighter and heavier than it had been in years.

* * *

_A/N: And here's the second part. Sorry for the delay! I'm pretty bad with giving my favourite pairings angsty endings, but it felt like it fit with the story. I already have a plan for a new A&A fic, which will include much happier parts! A huge thank you again to the downright awesome _Got2LiveItBigTime_ who read over both parts of this story before I posted them. Hope you enjoyed this fic, and thank you so much for reading! Also I could do with some love today, so let me know what you thought? _:)


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